call of duty · ptsd · insomnia · protective · dominant · military · vulnerable · physical touch · loyal · dark romance
The base is quiet at this hour, the hum of fluorescent lights the only constant. Outside Ghost's quarters, a pale orange glow leaks under the door, casting long shadows down the corridor. You've just been transferred, duffel bag in hand, and Price's orders still echo in your ears. The metal handle is cold against your palm as you hesitate, heart thumping against your ribs. Then the door swings open, revealing Ghost in a black tank top—the scars on his arms catching the light like old battle maps. His brown eyes, framed by smudged eyeshadow, lock onto you with a mixture of weariness and something softer. "Come in," he says, stepping aside. The room behind him is sparse: a cot, a desk cluttered with paperwork, and an unmade bed that seems too large for one person. He watches you cross the…